Dictio Noctuas
by Ninamazing
Summary: Possibly the longest fic I have ever written. And definitely one of the best ideas it came off of! :) Anyways ... read on to find out what the title means, and what an Oscenmouth is!!!! And e/r/r, s'il vous plait.


**Got this idea last night while I was listening to beautiful 12th CD of my Goblet of Fire CD collection. ;) Jim Dale is the MAN!! *ahem* Anyways. 'Dictio Noctuas' means 'I talk to owls.' I think - yeah. I'm pretty sure that's right. That's Latin. And if it's not right, well, it was as close as I could get while still sounding cool. Okay? Okay. Anyways. I talk to owls .... how could that contribute to the story .... how could my main character (and speaking of her, Calandra means Singing Bird, Althea means Healer, Eron means Eagle, Ruler, Peace, AND Enlightened, and Helga actually means Holy and Faithful, and Desdemona means Of The Devil .. lol) - oh, just shut up and let them read, Nina. =)**   
**Nope, not yet. If you really like the name Parvati (this is so IRRELEVANT! *eeeevil grin*), then read the book Shiva's Fire by Suzanne Fisher Staples. It's sooo, sooo good. ;) And "Jean" the FRENCH name is pronounced soft J - ee [only a hint of this sound] - awn. That's as close as I can get with words. And correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't Fred & George a year above Harry and Ron? And don't you think that the Venomous Tentacula is *very* reminiscent of Audrey II in the musical Little Shop of Horrors, copyright © whoever it's copyright by, original story and screenplay by Roger Corman and Chuck Griffith? And when a certain person says "Sleep Now" ... well, have any of you seen the movie Dark City?? Okay, okay, OKAY! You can read now! I'm sorry!**

* * *

Althea and Eron Hayes, my sister and brother, were noticeably magical before I even began to show my powers. Althea got her letter at the right time and flashed off to Hogwarts, coming back after a year with knowledge and wisdom aplenty. My parents surprised her with a plump, dark brown owl, whom she promptly named Helga (because of the owl's curious resemblance to the Head of Hufflepuff House).   
"Easy," was Althea's comment about Hogwarts. "Ravenclaw suits me very well." This proved true - Mum and Dad spent at least a week telling all the neighbors how great she was. And Althea had spent weeks telling us all about the fabulous Triwizard Tournament, never mentioning all the horrid parts at the end, of course, until Mum and Dad specifically asked. I sighed and huffed and puffed and tried to focus on the fact that all my out-of-town friends (penpals from the huge program I was in, Wizards Over the World, or WOW) thought I was lucky because I lived in one of the only other wizarding villages besides Hogsmeade - Morrigan Town.   
I mentioned all this to Rhiannon (nicknamed Rhia) Shaughnessy, my best friend, who was continually afraid of turning out to be a Squib "after all." She couldn't do wand magic so well, I hated to admit - but she was the greatest at everything else!   
"Sheesh, your sister did well, give her a chance!" Rhia exclaimed. "You sure are hard on people, Cal. She must have worked hard ...."   
"Don't you start too," I said hotly. "And you wouldn't be so keen on her if she was **your** sister, I can bet you!" I added.   
"Okay, okay, I admit your parents go overboard sometimes - a lot of times - but your friends are right. I like that one penpal of yours .... the one in Australia .... Hanna was her name?"   
"Yeah, and you can have her," I told her, snickering. "She's a snot. We stopped communicating ages ago. But I still have her address -"   
"Of course you still have her address! How huge is that book you have, the one with every single young wizard in the WORLD's address!"   
"Shush," I ordered, blushing and swatting at her. "It's only my penpal book. It lists all past and present penpal addresses. Okay?"   
"I'm surprised your sister is so tolerant as to let you use Helga so much," Rhia continued, as if she'd never heard me.   
"She isn't. I have to use Darren." Darren was the family mail-carrier, a lazy screech owl that had to have a Muting Charm laid on him about seventeen times a day.   
"Ugh!" Rhia hated Darren - every time she came over to my house, he shrieked louder than ever straight at her. "Annoying as a parrot, that one is," she continued.   
"I know, I know .... don't remind me that I have to go home to him ...."   
We both stopped. We were standing in front of Molly K's Candy Barn, which right now was not an appropriate name. I always thought it should have been 'Molly K's   
Candy, Toy, Trick, Joke, Muggle Clothing, and Shoe Barn' even though it also was selling its newest merchandise: all kinds of ice cream containers, for different amounts, occasions, and storage spaces. The Ice Cream Charm was getting popular, since wizards no longer had to go through the painstaking process of making ice cream. A witch in our town, the friendly Mrs. Granvor, owner of Granvor Sweets 'n' Things, was responsible for the sudden popularity of the Ice Cream Charm - her ice cream was famed all around the surrounding neighborhoods, and it had only just been discovered that she had been using the charm to make it.   
"Should we go in?" Rhia asked. I shook my head.   
"Granvor's is still better," I said stubbornly, and we both grinned. Mrs. Granvor was endlessly nice to us. There was no way we'd stop buying her ice cream - at two Knuts a cone, it was the cheapest around, and she was always fun to talk to, anyway.   
We headed towards Granvor's, but were stopped almost immediately by a tall, slim, dark beauty of a girl - Lila Devidea, who insisted that people call her the SpellCaster. She was nasty, cold-hearted, and eccentric; furthermore, she hated me and Rhia.   
"You two," she said witheringly. Then she smiled coldly, as if remembering something. "Actually, I'd been meaning to talk to you. My sister, Desdemona, is going to be starting at Hogwarts when you do. You are to treat her with utmost respect and never address her by her nickname, Dessie. I'll be a fifth-year, and **I'll be watching**. Understood?"   
"Right," Rhia replied sarcastically, and shoved past her into Paddy's Ultimate Joke Universe, dragging me along. Lila couldn't do anything to us while we were under the eye of Paddy O'Connor. She stared after both of us with the burning heat of dislike in her eyes, and left, furious. Rhia looked not the least bit scared, but I was a little - er - apprehensive. I was also extremely doubtful of the fact that either of us would get into Hogwarts and thought that probably, Lila was just trying to taunt us because she went to Hogwarts and was far better at magic than we would ever be.   
"She could do something to us next year, you know," I said quietly. "Don't you remember when she told us that she's taking correspondence courses about the Dark Arts from Durmstrang over the summer? The only reason she goes to Hogwarts is because the Devideas can't afford for them to travel that far."   
Rhia sniffed softly. "She doesn't scare me at all," she remarked stoutly. "There's always Azkaban, Cal. We wizards do enforce **some** law around here!" I shrugged, trying to seem casual.   
"If you say so ...." I said, trying to be brave. It wasn't easy. I was a natural worrier.   
"Look!" Rhia shouted, pointing up as we stepped out of Paddy's. I waved goodbye to him and peered up where she was pointing. Two owls were flying towards us at top speed. They appeared to be twins.   
"What's so great about -" I began, but was cut off as the owls stopped right in front of us, looking proud and important.   
Rhia was already tearing open her letter. I grabbed mine eagerly, guessing what it might be. I whispered a thanks to the two owls and they took off. I shrugged again and ripped the envelope apart to get to the parchment inside.   
"Hogwarts!" we both exclaimed. Rhia was beside herself with excitement.   
"I can go! I can go! I can go!" she squealed. "They'll let me! Even though I never showed any aptitude for wandwork!"   
"Even though I showed my magic late!" I screeched, almost as loudly as Darren. We grinned widely at one another and dashed home to tell our families.   


"At-at l-l-least it went-t by f-f-fast," I declared, teeth chattering, on the Hogwarts Express. I was shivering in my new robes, which were warm enough for home, but this train was **freezing**. Rhia laughed and jarred me hard in the side with her elbow. I found her lack of feelings and sensitivity disheartening.   
"Buck up, Cal, it's not that cold!" she exclaimed brightly. "Aren't you so excited to be on the Hogwarts Express? On your way to the greatest wizarding school AROUND?? Who cares if Diagon Alley went by fast?"   
"N-No, I know it-t is, I d-d-do," I answered, responding to all of her questions at once.   
"Be a little HAPPY! Look on the BRIGHT side!" she ordered.   
"You t-talk-k too loud-d," I moaned, holding my aching head and sniffing. An owl tapped on the train window suddenly and loudly, and Rhia strode over to let it in.   
"Don't-t -" I shrieked, not wanting her to let the cold air in, but it was too late, she had, and the owl flapped in calmly as a blast of icy air drove right into my face. I buried myself completely in my too-large robes, wishing I'd brought a blanket. Rhia leaned her head out, letting the wind flap her hair.   
"Y-you id-diot-t-t, th-that's dang-gerous-s!" I yelled, pulling my head out of my robes and watching her. I stumbled over to pull her back and slam the window shut. I breathed hard and dropped down to the floor. The owl dipped down in front of my face, looking exasperated but patient.   
"S-s-sorry," I croaked to him. "It's c-cold in here."   
[I know,] the owl told me. [**You** don't have to fly in it. And it took me **forever** to find you, you know.]   
"I'm really s-sorry," I answered shakily, trying desperately to stop my teeth.   
[It's all right,] he told me shyly, ashamed that he'd gotten mad. [Just - just can I stay in here for a bit, with you?]   
"S-sure," I responded kindly, and read my letter.

_Dear Cal,_   
_ Hey! What's up? I'm sending you this from Beauxbatons ... that's right, school just started here. It's the same in France as it was at home ... I miss home, but Dad got some kind of special position so we're staying here for the year. Mother thought it would be great education if I went to Beauxbatons my second year. Ha. I liked Canada and Sheridan Magic Institute a LOT better, thanks!_   
_ France is a nice country, and it's a good thing we know a lot of French because everything in Canada has to be printed in English AND French - signs, food labels, stuff like that. But the French hate me. I think. The food is really good though. Even though you can get quiches in Vancouver - I'd rather be there than stuck over here .... oh well. Maybe I'll get used to it. Maybe they'll get used to me._   
_ So are you starting school? It's my second year and I'm ten, but I know Hogwarts doesn't start until you're eleven. Are you going there? Don't worry about not getting into a school ... really, it's not as tough as you might think. At least Sheridan isn't. Too bad you can't go. It isn't really that bad, even though it takes absolutely forever to get there. Mum and Dad say they can't wait until I pass my Apparition test - I personally agree. I wish it wasn't so far from the city, but I guess it has to be. Vancouver is just swarming with Muggles, especially in the summer._   
_ Ellen's screaming downstairs and Mum's calling me to set the table. Gotta go._   
_Love,_   
_Cara_

I looked up, happy. Right now I had three penpals - not that many, I know, but I usually switch around a lot and I'd stopped writing to a couple because I knew I wouldn't have the time at Hogwarts - and Cara, who I'd been writing to for almost a year, was one of my closest out-of-town friends. Her little sister, Ellen, sometimes added a note to me at the bottom; Cara was teaching her how to write.   
Rhia was staring at me, and I snapped out of my thoughts.   
"What?" I asked, a lot less cold and a lot less annoyed at her now that Cara had written. "I should write back right away, you know -" I searched for my stationery box and quill.   
"You never told me," she began, amazed. "Never, ever." She looked a little pale and very dazed.   
"What didn't I tell you?" I questioned, distracted. My box wasn't that far down in my pack - I'd made sure to put it near the top, so I could reach it easily if I got letters on the train ...   
"You can talk to owls! In owl language!" Rhia shouted, impressed. I snapped up and glanced at her sharply.   
"Of course I can talk to owls," I assured her calmly. "You never noticed? Keep your voice down, please, I'm trying to look for my stationery box." Aha! Got it. I pulled it out, displacing my perfectly folded clothes - Mother's work, not mine! - opened it, pulled out a sheet of silvery, smooth paper and my favorite quill, a bright-blue Wordmaster, now holding navy ink.s

_Dear Cara,_   
_ It was so great to get that letter from you! I was on the train to Hogwarts ... Rhia and I were so surprised at getting in, I can tell you ... hope Beauxbatons is going slightly better. I've heard about it somewhere ... I think ... is it true that it's a palace made completely out of non-chilly ice?_   
_ Sorry. I've got my mind on non-chilly right now ... this train is absolutely *freezing*, let me tell you! I_

"Well, it's not exactly **normal**, is it?" Rhia inquired, after some thought.   
"No," I replied irritably, and continued to work on my letter.

_let your owl stay here, as he told me he was freezing too. Imagine having to fly through all those winds! And he said it took him awhile to find me ... that was my fault. If you want to reach me from now on, I'll be at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, okay? Okay._

"How did you - I mean, how did you find out - how were you able to - how did you discover -"   
"I don't **know**!" I answered, hurt. My talking to owls had always been a soft spot, and up until now I'd never been careless enough to let anybody know about it except my parents and Rhia. My mother, a natural worrier like me, had fretted about calling the Ministry and going to a doctor, but my father (thankfully) talked her out of it. After that, I was usually cautious about speaking to them, but I'd been too excited about my letter. It had slipped my mind, and now Rhia was freaking out.   
"Okay," I began. "I didn't mean to yell. Here. I can talk to owls. That's all I know. Okay? Okay. **Please** let me finish my letter!"   
"Fine," Rhia responded sulkily, and tried to call to the owl.   
[Don't talk to her,] I silently ordered the owl, perhaps a little more sharply than usual. I was uneasy, and angry at Rhia for getting me all worked up about my unusual ability. I was also angry at myself for being so stupid as to just talk right out in the open!   
[I couldn't anyway,] he said, a little miffed. [You're the only one I know of who hears our speech.]   
[Do you know how I can?] I asked, interested. I wanted more than anything to find out the answer to this problem.   
[I suppose you just care enough to listen ... ?]   
[Thanks,] I told him, even though I knew that, translated, that meant "I have no idea how you can talk to owls." It was worth a try, anyway.

_Is the owl yours? Is he new? I didn't know him, and it's not exactly tactful to ask an owl questions about who they are or what their master's names are right off the bat. Some kind of weird owl etiquette again that I had to learn the hard way._   
_ The French sound a little nasty! I hope they at least get used to you. I know just a little French, but I think it's a nice language. Are the people really that bad?? Sheesh. There have to be some nice people. Come on. I thought it was just French prejudice when people said they were stuck-up. I bet they think we're stuck-up, right? Probably. I just hope your dad isn't trying to teach Ellen French or something!!_

I giggled at the thought. It sounded like exactly the kind of thing her dad would try to do, judging from what I'd heard of him.   
"What?" asked Rhia peevishly.   
"Nothing," I answered automatically, but when I saw her start to sulk even more, I sighed. "Just something Cara said."

_ I have to ask you something really important. I mentioned talking to your owl in this letter - please don't tell anyone about that. Do you think it's strange? Rhia's scaring me. My mother thinks it's dangerous or something. I've always been able to do it. Is it some kind of weird magical ability, like being a Parselmouth, do you think? Like, I'm related to Salazar Slytherin or something? I hope not. That would be awful._   
_ Well, I have to go. I should make up with Rhia before we get to Hogwarts, and I think we're getting close. We changed into our robes before your letter came because a lady with sweets stopped in and told us she was coming around late this train ride and that we were about an hour away. I'm really excited, but really scared, you know?_   
_ When you write back I'll tell you *everything*._   
_Love,_   
_Cal_

"I'm done, Rhia," I announced, folding up the letter, putting it in a shiny envelope, penning Cara's name on the front, and handing it to the owl, saying, [Whenever you get a chance, please. I know it's still cold out there.]   
[Thank you.]   
Rhia didn't say anything. "Look, I'm **sorry**!" I told her. "I was just frustrated, that's all. Being able to talk to owls has always scared me. A little."   
"We all do," she said, sounding far kinder than before. "But they just don't answer **back**, that's all! You scared me, too. But I suppose it's not that strange. I bet there are other kids who have the ability, too, but they keep it quiet."   
She was trying to make me feel better. I was very, very grateful.   
"Yeah ... thanks." We smiled at each other, and talked until the train pulled up to Hogwarts and a gigantic man called us to the lake. I could tell Rhia was trying to forget about me talking to owls, but I couldn't help thinking of it. Maybe I was some strange kind of Parselmouth. It was certainly an idea!   


"Edmonson, Jill," the strict-looking, Scottish professor declared. "Edzer, Adamm. Egram, Simon. Ezefora, Nicolia. Fabrizio, Niklas. Forren, Darlene. Foster, Janet. Georgio, Marie. Gregory, Alex ..." The names were just beginning to fade and blur in my head when she announced loudly, "Hayes, Calandra!"   
Dazedly, I walked up to the stool and flopped down, the Sorting Hat safely atop my head. I was tired, and wanted to lay back and fall asleep - the soft, worn, black material that was covering my eyes was welcome - but its voice was nosy and annoying.   
"Ooooh ... one of these ones! I love them. They're so unusual, but they're so good ... and so smart ... let's see. Ravenclaw for you? Let's see. Process of elimination, this one, Hat. Slytherin -"   
_NO!_ I screamed inwardly. The hat moved around, as if it was chuckling.   
"I hadn't thought so, child! Hufflepuff ... oh dear, this strain of Hufflepuff-ish-ness does run in the Hayes family, doesn't it? Well, there are all those other kids in line and I couldn't keep them ... but ..." and there was a note of wistfulness in its voice here, I thought - "I **do** wish I could savor this opportunity. I don't get many children like this - well, on with it. Of course Ravenclaw **might** do for you ... it might ... but then, Hufflepuff - well, I doubt Hufflepuff has what it takes. So it comes down to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Dear me! Gryffindor would be splendid for you, but I think you'd do well in Ravenclaw, too. But you - well - I'm going to have to decide this a bit harshly. You'd be expected to get good grades all the time in Ravenclaw ... and I don't think you could handle the stress. You'll work hard, but you **did** show your magic late, my poor child. And there's such a wonderful element of bravery, even with those spots of worry all over it - yes - I do think I've made the right choice - it must be - it has to be - it will be **GRYFFINDOR!**"   
Somehow I reached the Gryffindor table, and recieved a less-than-glowing look from Althea, who was sitting with her friends and an open seat at the Ravenclaw table. I grinned back, betting that the seat was saved for me, and glad that I didn't have to put up with her fawning over me, and that I was in the house she kept whining and complaining about - something about 'Gryffindor arrogance at being the biggest and the strongest' - I didn't follow. Lila Devidea was also watching me from the Slytherin table and glowering, like the complete - yet smaller - copy of her that sat next to her (I guessed this was her charming sister Desdemona). I ignored her and watched the rest of the Sorting as patiently as I could, hanging on tenterhooks to see where Rhia would go.   
It took the hat less than two minutes to yell, "**GRYFFINDOR!**" and my fears were assauged. Most of them, anyway, but I suppressed the rest, congratulated Rhia as she sat down next to me, and dug in.   
"First-years?" asked a friendly voice from across the table halfway through the meal. I gulped down a bite of baked potato and stared up at the girl. She looked Indian - as in from India - and her thick dark hair was pulled into a beautiful braid. Her big, dark eyes were framed by long lashes, and she had a beautiful smile.   
"Yeah," I responded, slightly bewildered. She kept smiling.   
"You'll get used to it. I'm a fifth-year. Parvati Patil." She said this all very fast, and extended her hand to me over a jug of milk and a plate of marinated chicken.   
"Hi," I replied. I wasn't up to long sentences yet. "I'm Cal Hayes. This is Rhia Shaugnessy."   
"Cal?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. But I sensed it was a friendly jest, and smiled back after taking a swig of milk.   
"Calandra's my real name," I explained.   
"Rhiannon's mine," Rhia told her, not too eagerly. I knew that she personally hated her real name, although I happened to love it.   
"Nice to meet you," said Parvati kindly. "Hope you have a good first year at Hogwarts - mine was great. But last year was better than them all. Did you have fun this summer?? I visited Beauxbatons Academy, in France .... there was a boy there who I danced with last year. His name is Jean, and he's very handsome. I love his accent, too." She giggled. "And I went to the ball with Harry Potter."   
"Harry _Potter?"_ I gaped. I couldn't help it. I couldn't believe it! I guess he **could** have a girlfriend. I'd never thought about it before. And he was fifteen, after all ... and he went to Hogwarts. All this installed itself in my mind very quickly, and I scanned the table hastily, up and down, to catch a glimpse of him. Parvati laughed.   
"He's nice. He's just a normal kid, you know," she told me casually, obviously enjoying her moment of fame. I spotted Harry, sitting with a TALL, gangly, red-haired, freckled boy and a shorter girl with bushy hair and small teeth, who was talking a whole lot.   
"It's **him** ..." I whispered, in awe. Althea had been chattering for years about him, but ... it was different, to see him in real life. Very different. I looked at his face ... he was laughing, having fun with his friends. I wondered where he lived over the summer, how he could still have fun when he knew that You-Know-Who was gaining power, coming after him ... of course, the Dark Lord's name was really Voldemort, I thought quietly. Voldemort Voldemort Voldemort Voldemort ... maybe if I thought it enough times the fear would go away.   
Parvati stunned me out of my thoughts, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "Cal?!" she was saying - loudly. I blushed as her two friends turned towards me.   
"Sorry," I said quickly, and introduced myself to the girls - who were introduced to me as Lavender Brown (I figured she must have been the champion giggler of fifth-year) and Sally-Anne Perks, both fifth-years as well.   
"So - how's the schoolwork?" asked Rhia timidly. I could tell she was worrying about doing it.   
"Schoolwork?" echoed Sally-Anne, looking surprised. "It's all the same! Always!" Lavender agreed heartily, and scolded Rhia for reminding her that "the party ended tomorrow," as she put it.   
"So, do you think they'll have another ball this year? Even though there's no Triwizard Tournament?" Sally-Anne began.   
"Maybe ..." Parvati answered vaguely. It looked like she was thinking about "Jean" again.   
"If they are, I'm asking Terry Boot before Mandy Brocklehurst gets to him. Honestly! What a jerk! And he's so cute, too. It's a waste of a good guy," Sally-Anne continued.   
"Seamus was a great dance partner last year," Lavender remarked dreamily. I exchanged raised eyebrows with Rhia, and decided to continue eating. Dating and gossip were just beyond me.   
Once everybody appeared to be finished, Rhia and I waited along with everyone else for the headmaster, at the center of the staff table, to stand.   
"Another school year," he said. Parvati whispered to a boy next to her, who had just asked, that the old man was Dumbledore. He didn't seem old though, when he was talking and his eyes were all bright. He looked very - wise, I decided. Seemed fitting, for the headmaster of Hogwarts. Althea was more keen on Madam Pomfrey, though. "I must say a few words, before you retire to your beds.   
"You should all know," he continued, "that the forest on the school grounds is absolutely forbidden to all students. The same holds true for the village of Hogsmeade and all students below third year.   
"The caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me if I would inform you that MudMonkeys are no longer allowed inside the school. If you possess one, please turn it in to Mr. Filch or send it home." I snuck a glance at Harry. He was rapt with attention.   
"Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be Professor Seda. Sadly, unfortunate circumstances have demanded her absence at the moment. When you do see her for the first time tomorrow, please give her your highest respect.   
"And as to tomorrow morning, it is crucial for you all to be awake to some extent in your first lessons of the year tomorrow. Sleep now!"   


I woke up the next morning to Rhia standing over my crimson canopy bed.   
"It's way past dawn, sleepyhead!" she yelled cheerfully. I moaned and looked to my right at Rhia's vacated, freshly-made bed, which was pushed up against the wall. On my left, another girl stirred and sat up, her strawberry-blond hair a tattered morning mess.   
"Do you have to scream?" she asked blearily.   
"I wasn't screaming!" Rhia protested, still talking about fifty decibels above normal voice level.   
"Let's use our inside voices, girls," a dark-haired someone next to the first girl who had spoken. She was imitating an old woman's voice .. much like the gray-haired, Scottish professor from the Sorting last night.   
"All right, all right, I'm awake," the first girl said again, grumpily, and glared at Rhia. She pulled herself out of bed and opened all three locks on her trunk at the end of the bed. Rhia stifled a giggle.   
"Sure protective of your things, aren't you?" she questioned, amused.   
"Yes I am," she told us indignantly. "Oh, right, my name - Jaclyn Miller, you?"   
"Cal Hayes," said automatically. "Otherwise known as Calandra. But nobody calls me that."   
"I know who your friend is," the dark-haired girl exclaimed. "I remember her. She sat next to me yesterday at the feast."   
"Yeah, I'm Rhia Shaugnessy," Rhia told everyone. "I remember you too. Sara?"   
"Right. Sara Sonimen," she assured brightly, and quickly sat up, looking around.   
"Anybody wondering if **I'm** ever going to wake up?" a grouchy female voice asked from the bed pushed up against the wall opposite Rhia's.   
"Of course, Tara, it's the first thing we thought of," Jaclyn told her sarcastically. "How did I get stuck in a House with four non-morning persons?"   
"Not counting yourself," Sara added brightly. To this, Jaclyn just grumbled, picked up her things, and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of water running began, and Rhia, already dressed and washed up, sat down on her bed and began to gather up her books, quills, and parchment. I dragged my covers away and sat up slowly, hoping I wouldn't get a headache or something from sitting up too fast.   
"I know I should have paid more attention to my sleep schedule this summer ..." Sara groaned, looking sleepy again. She half-closed her eyes and flopped down to her pillow again.   
"So you're Cal?" Tara shouted to me, sounding a lot nicer than when she was arguing with Sara. I supposed they already knew each other, and were already fighting all the time. Or something.   
"Yeah ... you were awake?" I asked, my mind catching up with my words. She winked at me, and started to make her bed. Resignedly, I followed suit. She finished before I did, and got her things, joining Jaclyn in the bathroom. I arranged the rest of my things for the day, and, just as Sara was sitting up extremely slowly again and Jaclyn was leaving the bathroom at last, I headed into the bathroom.   
It was very nice, all white marble. There were two showers, three sinks, two stalls, and a bathtub. Everything was very clean - I supposed I owed that to the house-elves - and there was a shelf full of cottony white towels next to the sink. The faucets, handles, and spouts were all gold, and a huge mirror spanned the length of the sinks. I grinned my approval, and joined Tara at the row of sinks.   
We'd waited ten minutes for Sara and were on the verge of leaving without her when she finally came flying out of the bathroom, face still damp. So we all walked down to the Great Hall together, chatting avidly - with the exception of Sara and Tara, who were snapping at each other the whole way. But we soon all learned that they enjoyed warring all the time, so we decided to laugh at it along with them.   
I sat between Sara and Rhia at the Gryffindor table, and just before Tara was about to sit across from me, a tall boy with light brown hair and friendly - but obviously unobservant! - eyes took the seat. Tara shrugged and sat to his left, diagonal from me and across from Rhia.   
"I'm Paul Zorin," he told us, looking at me.   
"Cal Hayes," I said, for what seemed to be the fiftieth time.   
"Rhia Shaugnessy."   
"Sara Sonimen."   
"Tara Marjerona."   
"Jaclyn Miller," announced Jaclyn, who sat on Paul's right, across from Sara.   
"Hi everybody ..." Paul greeted us. "You all seem to know each other." We nodded. Jaclyn giggled, and started playing with her hair. Rhia and I exchanged glances, like we'd done the night before when we were surrounded by Parvati and her crowd.   
"So the feast last night was really, uh, cool," Paul continued, obviously trying to start conversation.   
"Yeah, even if the Sorting was a test of nerves!" I added.   
Sara grinned. "That hat was pretty talkative. With me, anyway - he would have Sorted me in a minute if he'd only just shut up!" Paul, Tara, Rhia, and I chuckled.   
"So were **you** nervous at the Sorting, Paul?" Jaclyn asked, sounding a lot less tired and fuzzy than she had that morning in our dormitory. She twirled a strand of her hair around as she ate, which didn't work too well.   
"Who wasn't?" he answered quickly, with an imploring look towards the rest of us that clearly said, _"Get me AWAY from her!"_   
"I know," Rhia agreed. "I was so afraid I'd be put into Hufflepuff .. can you imagine me in **there**? It's an okay house, I guess, but .. wow. I'm so glad I made it here instead!"   
"Or what if you got put into Slytherin ..." Sarah hissed mysteriously. "... and you had to walk around being eeeevil and dour and cunning and plotting and talking to your faithful man-eating snakes ...." She shuddered melodramatically, and we all grinned at the haunting look she wore.   
"I'd hate to be in Slytherin," Tara remarked. "For once, Sara, I agree with you."   
"I'm honored," Sara replied sarcastically, not missing a beat, and Tara winked back.   
"I'm sure you are," she said, like a mother telling her child that of course, of course, when she grew up all her dreams would come true, and she would be a ferocious jungle lion. Or whatever little kids dream about growing up to be. Eron had his cheetah phase for awhile there ...   
"So when do we -" Rhia started eagerly, but was stopped by the Scottish lady - who I learned then was Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher - approaching our group with schedules. We all tried to hastily memorize ours.   
"I've heard the Potions master is really nasty," Paul told us, looking a little worried. "And we've got Double Potions Wednesday mornings. With the Slytherins. What a way to start the day!"   
"Ugh," added Rhia and I together.   
"Charms tomorrow afternoon!" Sara exclaimed, looking excited. "Those should be fun - I heard there are some that can turn people's skin purple -"   
"Just stay away from me once you learn a few charms, okay, Sara?" Tara pretended to plead.   
"I second that," I announced, and glanced back down at my schedule to see what we had right after breakfast. "Herbology? That should be fun ... then Astronomy. Not a bad start to the week!"   
"Not at all," Rhia agreed, looking very content and full of a good breakfast.   
"Excellent!" Paul said brightly.   
"Excellent," Jaclyn repeated, smiling at him.   
"Astronomy should be **wonderful**," Tara breathed. "I've always wanted to learn the constellations and everything, but I just never got around to it ..."   
"Uh-oh." Sarah was the only one without a glowing smile. "Double Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws this afternoon. And these two twin sixth-year boys I was talking to yesterday said she was really, really strict. And a harsh grader, and ..."   
"So you're still alive, Sarah!" a call came from one of two twin redheaded boys, walking briskly toward Sara's chair and looking very like the boy I had seen next to Harry Potter last night. I supposed they were related.   
"We're going to have to do something about that," said the second when they had both reached us. Sara grinned.   
"Hey Fred, hey George," she greeted them happily. "These are my friends ... Cal," she pointed to us as she said our names, "Rhia, Jaclyn, Paul, and Tara. These two are Fred and George, the sixth-years in question." We all murmured hellos.   
"We just happened to overhear some small details of your schedules and your worries and woes about your new classes," Fred or George announced.   
"And decided to make you worry just a little bit more ..." Fred or George - at any rate, the OTHER one - continued.   
"No, but really ... McGonagall's okay, if you like strict, no-nonsense teachers who give piles of homework and love to punish you!" the first one informed us, grinning mischievously. We all groaned.   
"Herbology's all right. Just don't let Professor Sprout get angry, or she'll set the Venomous Tentacula at you," the other one advised evilly.   
"Which is a blood-loving plant," the first one told us. "Just in case you didn't know."   
"Dear me, gotta run," the other one exclaimed, and they vanished after giving us a hasty farewell.   
"I guess we should be getting on to Herbology, shouldn't we?" I inquired nervously.   
Sara smiled kindly. "They were just trying to give us a hard time, guys, you KNOW that, right? They're okay, Fred and George. They're cool."   
"I guess it won't be **that** bad, will it?" Paul asked timidly.   
"Of course not," Jaclyn told him warmly. Would she EVER take her eyes off him???   
"Sara's right," I assured him.   
"Let's go!" Rhia exclaimed. "Come ON!"   


Herbology **wasn't** that bad, and neither was Astronomy, or Charms, or Transfiguration, or any of our classes ... even Potions was endurable. The weeks sped by, and soon it was Halloween before I noticed that any time had passed. On a Saturday two days before Halloween, I stumbled out of bed early but refreshed, got dressed, and remembered my promise to send frequent owls home. Oops.   
I figured that I should at least get out one, and wrote one to home, and a couple to my pen pals, while everyone else - except Rhia, who had vanished somewhere - was still asleep. I was about to walk out of the common room to send it, but then I looked around, realizing something. _I didn't know where an owl was that I could use._ I tried calling silently in owl-speech, [Hey! Somebody can take my letter?] but I guess my range wasn't that far. I was, after all, human. Or maybe there were none nearby.   
They could have been asleep. I looked anxiously back at our dormitory, but nobody had an owl. Sara's mother didn't want an owl in the house, Rhia's family already had one and wouldn't let her take it, my family only agreed to buy one after a year of perfect grades, and I didn't know why nobody else had one, but it was probably their parents. I sighed, and tried to call again. This time, I got very faint and fuzzy answers from a sleepy-sounding owl far away.   
[Come up to the Owlrey,] I heard the owl tell me grouchily. [North Tower. And make it quick, I won't stay up long. Even for you.]   
I grinned - anyone involved with wizards and magic seemed to be incredibly grouchy in the mornings - thanked the owl, and headed up three flights of stairs to the North Tower.   
The Owlrey floor was littered with shed feathers, droppings, and bits of nests. There were about twenty owls bearing the Hogwarts crest there are the moment, doing various things. I called a sleek brown owl down to me.   
[Oh, a letter again, is it?] it asked grumpily. [The entire school must want to send letters to me. Last week I had to send one to someone who was hiding in a cave a half-mile away from Hogsmeade, on some mountain. He was hiding; didn't want any Ministry of Magic officials to -] The owl was interrupted by a huge snowy owl shrieking and careening towards both of us.   
The brown owl didn't seem to care. [Hedwig, you've got to stop making all that racket. What's Harry been giving you?] To me he said, [She's Harry Potter's owl. Gets off sending too many letters to Sirius Black because they agreed that if a snowy owl kept coming to see Sirius, it would look suspicious, so Harry has to use us now. Oh joy.]   
His words digested in my brain. Hedwig - Harry - Sirius BLACK? - Harry - Harry POTTER - Hedwig - SIRIUS BLACK - suspicious - hiding away - HOGSMEADE - mountain -   
[Hogs - mountain?] I asked. [I mean .... Harry's sending letters to SIRIUS? Regular owls?]   
[I wouldn't have thought it myself,] the owl said dryly. Hedwig was going nuts behind him, causing a lot of commotion among the owls who were just rising. [Didn't you say you had a letter to send?] I started, than I remembered. Owl etiquette made no mistakes in situations like these ... translated, the owl's words meant "No more questions! Just give me the letter and go."   
[Here,] I offered reluctantly, handing him a stack of folded papers with names on top. [Sorry. It's a big job.]   
[You couldn't have asked someone else ...] he complained. [Fine. Spew out the names.]   
[This one, to the Hayes family in Morrigan Town,] I told him sharply, pointing to the letters. [Then to Cara Phillips, Beauxbatons Academy in France.] I'd asked her if she knew about Parvati's "Jean" ... [Third one to Elysia Stevenson ... um. I guess she's somewhere in Surrey. And that's it.]   
[I'll find them, even without the addresses,] the owl said haughtily, as if convinced he was going to make sure I knew that **he** was doing me the favor!   
[Thank you,] I finished shortly, with badly concealed sarcasm, and went downstairs for breakfast, with a load of thoughts on my mind.   
I saw Jaclyn and Paul sitting alone, so I figured if I wanted Jaclyn's friendship at all later I better **not** interrupt! Sighing, I grabbed a few pieces of toast and swigged a glass of orange juice, heading outside to the grounds for some quiet thoughts.   
So Harry Potter was sending regular owls to Sirius Black. Harry was **friends** with the man who murdered his parents, Peter Pettigrew, and twelve others! For all I knew, he'd helped him escape from Azkaban. And he was helping him hide out now.   
So what did that mean? That Harry didn't care about his parents' deaths? That - Voldemort - was using Sirius Black to try and bait Harry? My heart filled with cold fear. Maybe Sirius was pretending to have relinquished Voldemort, and Harry forgave him - somehow - incredibly. So once Harry was comfortable with Sirius, Voldemort would capture them both.   
Or maybe Voldemort didn't have to bother. Maybe Harry was already a Death Eater, masquerading as a hero who hated the Dark Lord. Anything was possible. This entire thing was completely unbelievable. Absolutely inconceivable. Why? Why? Did Harry know what he was doing, at all? What was he getting himself into?? Parvati's words of my first night came back to me. _"He's just a normal kid, you know ..."_   
Yeah, he was a normal kid. He was fifteen years old, and studied and danced and laughed with other fifteen-year-olds. And went to school with other fifteen-year-olds. And sent letters to his parents' murderer. And we were expecting him to save us from the Dark Lord, all by himself?   
Suddenly I felt very angry. He was just a normal **boy**! And the entire wizarding society was depending on him, and he just thought he could ally himself with Voldemort's supporters! He was letting us down! He didn't really know what he was doing! He didn't know **anything**!   
_I could do better against Voldemort,_ I told myself. _I got in Gryffindor too. I'm just as good as he is. We all are! And at least we know when to stop. Does he even know about Sirius Black? Does he care that his friend is a Death Eater??_   
It was unbelievable. Harry had looked so friendly. And he'd encountered the Dark Lord last year, at the Triwizard Tournament. Voldemort murdered the other winner of the Triwizard Cup. And Althea said he'd come back with a big gash on her arm - she would know, I suddenly remembered, because Madam Pomfrey liked her more than the other kids, and had made her a "special assistant," as Althea put it - where a Death Eater had slashed open his veins. And he was pale. And terrified.   
_"But he was still brave ..."_ she had said. _"He carried the - the body of that kid, Cedric Diggory, up to his parents. And everybody was crying, but his eyes were dry. He'd encountered You-Know-Who!" _I had stopped her then. I didn't want to hear any more. Neither did Mum and Dad, surprisingly. They'd been all ears about whatever she said since she'd come home ...   
_Enough about Althea,_ I told myself. What should I do now? All my heart screamed for me to handle it myself, to prove I could do everything that Harry Potter could and more ... but something stopped me. Dumbledore. I could go to Dumbledore. Something told me he would know everything I had to do.   
But would he believe that Harry was consorting with evil? I remembered Harry's extremely respectful gaze at Dumbledore's speech the first night, and the rumors that Harry was Dumbledore's "special favorite" or something. It was my word over Harry's, and would Dumbledore accept that?   
He would have to. He would have to believe I was telling the truth. He could give me Veritaserum, and it would come out the same for me. That settled it. I clenched my fists briefly in determination and marched back up the castle, brushing my hands free of toast crumbs and melted butter.   
Two thoughts snapped into my head as I stepped into the entrance hall. Where was Dumbledore's office? And what if I got expelled for "telling lies" about Harry?   
Who would know where Dumbledore was? What if I got **Harry** expelled, and Voldemort became angry with me? I gulped, and leaned against a corner wall as a few students filed out of the Great Hall from their breakfasts. The wall evaporated.   
Gasping, I fell through and onto hard stone ground. The wall reappeared behind me. This time, it was quite solid. I rubbed my arms and looked up.   
There was Dumbledore, sitting at his desk and smiling down at me.   
"Professor Dumbledore!" I breathed. "Sorry - I didn't mean to - wall evaporated -"   
"Perfectly logical excuse, since I cast the spell on that wall myself. You wanted to tell me something?"   
"Er - yes," I answered. I was in awe. Didn't he care about intrusions of privacy or something? He was so - friendly! "Ah - er - would it be strange if I told you I can talk to owls?"   
His eyes grew brighter. "Not at all. Please, tell me the entire story." And so I did, explaining everything from the first time I had ever spoken to an owl up until that morning. He appeared very interested, and didn't interrupt me once. When I had finished (now I was sitting in a chair opposite his desk), he sighed and leaned back slightly.   
"First of all, I would like to assure you that talking to owls is not unheard of, Calandra," he began. My real name sounded so much better coming from him! I tried not to imagine him calling me Cal. The thought was too amusing. "You are a Parselmouth - type of person, as you figured. But what you are is called an Oscenmouth."   
"Oscenmouth," I repeated, relieved after so many years of thinking I was some strange freak, afraid I would be expelled and banished from the wizarding world once someone found out. I was so glad I'd gone to Dumbledore! But what about Harry and Sirius Black?   
"Secondly, what the owls told you is right. Harry is keeping up correspondence with Sirius Black. Quite friendly correspondence, too." He was no longer smiling. He looked as though a new and unsettling idea had just come to him.   
"I'm sorry," I said awkwardly.   
"Calandra, curiosity is not a sin," he reassured me, smiling again. "It is not you I am worried about. In fact, I am sure you will keep our secret quite safe. And that is why I will explain the situation to you. Your curiosity will be satisfied." He went on to tell me everything - how Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs had roamed the grounds to create the Marauder's Map - the part I loved - how Peter Pettigrew had become a spy for Voldemort without anyone suspecting a thing, how he had framed Sirius for his crime, how James and Lily had agreed to use the Fidelius Charm, how Sirius had switched Secret-Keepers at the last moment, how Sirius had asked Hagrid if he could take care of Harry - after all, he was his godfather - how Sirius had been sentenced to Azkaban without a trial by Mr. Crouch, how Sirius had transformed to escape, how Harry had saved both Buckbeak the hippogriff and Sirius from execution and a Dementor's Kiss, how after that, Sirius wrote owls to Dumbledore and Harry to be updated on his godson's doings, and how he had travelled to outside Hogsmeade last year to keep a closer watch on Harry during the Triwizard Tournament. When Dumbledore had finally finished, I was speechless. It was just a hair short of unbelievable.   
"So, now that you know what is going on, Calandra, I must ask you to not disclose a word of this to anybody. I also believe that you should keep yourself alert for a time when you may talk to Harry, Ron, or Hermione alone and tell them all that you have heard."   
"Of course," I agreed. "I won't tell a soul, I promise. Except Harry."   
He smiled. "Then you may go back to your Saturday unless there is something else you desire for me to know."   
"No, there's nothing, Professor ..." I told him, and turned towards the normal exit - his door. "Thank you," I finished lamely but gratefully. He smiled.   
"It was my pleasure."   


I hurried back to the Gryffindor common room, hoping that I could catch Harry and his friends before they got involved in something. I felt like I knew them, with all that Dumbledore had told me about their doings. I was almost sure they'd all be together - they usually were, I thought.   
Luckily for me, I saw them the instant I scrambled through the portrait hole. They were sitting on a huge couch at a far end of the room playing Exploding Snap. I took a deep breath and approached them.   
"Uh - hi," I said awkwardly. They greeted me cheerfully. "I'm Cal Hayes," I told them. "I need to talk to you ... alone?"   
"Sure," Harry said first, trying to look like it was completely normal for them to be approached by strange first years and asked to have a private conversation. Hermione and Ron exchanged questioning glances and followed Harry and I out into a deserted corridor.   
I told them everything, starting with the fact that I was an Oscenmouth and finishing with the fact that Dumbledore had told me everything about Sirius. When I was telling them about how I'd spoken to the owls in the Owlrey and Hedwig had gone nuts, Harry looked proud of his owl but sent a look Hermione and Ron's way that I was sure meant, "See?! I **told** you it wasn't safe for Sirius to move up north!" and Hermione said something about how there were also disadvantages to sending different owls to Sirius. All in all, it was a very different audience the second time around.   
When I had finished, Harry smiled cautiously.   
"Dumbledore told you no one's supposed to know?" he asked me a little sternly.   
"Why do you think I took you out here, instead of blaring the whole thing out in the common room?" I snapped. Hermione grinned and told Harry to stop worrying.   
"She's obviously going to keep the secret," Ron pointed out. I smiled gratefully at him.   
"Okay then," Harry agreed, looking defeated. "Okay. Er - call Sirius Snuffles if you ever talk about him with us again, all right?" I nodded, trying to seem trustworthy.   
"Thanks for telling us, Cal," Hermione finished.   
"Yeah," Harry echoed.   
"Talk to you later!" Ron said cheerfully. We headed back into the common room. I had to get working on my Charms homework ...   


About a week later, I was coming out of Defense Against the Dark Arts with the extremely - uh - **vocal** Professor Seda. Paul, Sara, Rhia, and I were all talking about our latest lesson - if you could call it that, but I referred to it as a shouting match - when I spotted Jaclyn making a beeline for us. Or rather, making a beeline for Paul. I turned away to stifle a laugh and saw Harry with Ron and Hermione across the hall.   
"Calandra?" Harry called. I walked over to him, telling Sara, Paul, and Rhia I'd be there in a moment. "Snuffles says hi," he told me.   
I grinned.


End file.
